


i guess this could be worse

by wonderwall_mp4



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Abigera - Freeform, Abimel, Charmed Reboot, F/F, Movie Night, OverWitch - Freeform, abigael x mel, mel x abigael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:35:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24674716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderwall_mp4/pseuds/wonderwall_mp4
Summary: the story of a perfectly ordinary vera-vaughn-greenwood-chase-caine movie night, from two different perspectives.
Relationships: Abigael Jameson-Caine/Mel Vera
Comments: 17
Kudos: 55





	1. mel

**Author's Note:**

> title from "bags" by clairo

Maggie, hefting an enormously large bowl of popcorn in her arms, staggered into the living room and plopped herself down on the overstuffed couch. “Do you think this’ll be enough?” she asked Macy.

Macy stared at her, trying to gauge if she was kidding or not. “I think we might be good, Mags.” Jordan grabbed a fistful of popcorn and crammed it into his mouth, and Maggie started to chastise him. Macy ignored them and glanced over at Abigael, their demonic housemate, who was evil-lounging across the entire length of the best chair in the room. “You picked a movie yet, She-Devil?”

“Genius takes time.” Abigael said. She didn’t sound like she was joking. “Pass the snacks.” Maggie paused in berating Jordan to hug the bowl to her chest and raise an eyebrow in challenge. “Fine, if you numbskulls really want me to _starve_. What would the company like to watch? I’m going to say-” she squinted at Maggie and pointed- “Rom-coms-” she moved to Macy. “The cheesiest of 80s sci-fi-” and lastly, to Harry. “And musicals, but only god-awful ones.”

“ _Guys and Dolls_ is a modern classic,” pouted Harry. 

Abigael smiled, that controlled little smile that could either be sweet or bitingly sarcastic depending on who she aimed it at. “I suppose you’re entitled to your wrong opinions, Harold.” 

Harry plucked a piece of popcorn from the bowl and flicked it at the demon-witch, who scorched it out of midair with a tiny jet of flame. Abi’s jaw dropped in affront. “How dare you! After everything we’ve been through.” Maggie, eager to join the fun, threw her own piece, which bonked Abigael on the tip of her button nose. “ _Et tu_ , Bouncy?” She picked up the piece and hurled it back at them with a wicked smile, causing a riot of yelling and laughing, and most of the popcorn spilling on the floor.

Mel watched all this from the doorway that led to the kitchen, smiling fondly. She wasn’t sure how Abigael living with them was going to go, what with her complicated history with Mel’s family, but she seemed to be settling in nicely, or somewhat nicely, as evidenced by the popcorn that was flying too close for Mel’s comfort. She watched Abigael dodge a piece of popcorn and catch another in her mouth. She raised her hands in victory, prompting a cheer from Mel’s sisters, Whitelighter, and token human, and gave another grin, this one wide and real, and it made her slitted eyes sparkle and her nose scrunch up. Mel felt a warm pang in her chest, followed by another; this one more ugly, more fearful.

Mel turned away. She had been dealing with that familiar feeling, the first one, more often lately. Mel was no stranger to emotion, especially those of romantic nature- she was, surprisingly, the most frequent of her sisters to have love troubles. But, since she had been out and proud her whole life, she had never really had a crush on someone she wasn’t supposed to. She had _especially_ never had a crush on a traumatized, emotionally constipated demon-witch who definitely didn’t see her the same way. If it even was a crush and not just Mel being horny, or sad, or lonely, or all of the above.

Mel stepped into the kitchen, needing to be away from the noise to clear her mind, and took a beer from the cabinet, her fourth beer that night. She summoned her powers to cool it down. As condensation began to drip down the glass, Mel was startled by a soft “princess?” and a gentle pressure on her shoulder, and she whirled, holding the beer bottle like a dagger.

Abigael, the culprit, stumbled back, jerking her hand away. Her eyes were wide with panic. “I apologize! I apologize, I didn't mean to frighten you.”

Mel sighed, relaxing and setting her beer on the counter. “Jesus, Abi, warn a girl.” She realized with guilt that it probably wasn’t best to whirl on a PTSD victim brandishing a weapon, and took Abi’s hand from midair, squeezing it once before releasing it, to let her know she had done nothing wrong.

“I just wanted...” Abigael crossed her arms, setting them tight against her torso. Mel noticed that she was wearing one of Mel’s old Smiths t-shirts as a pajama top. She was also wearing black leggings and her hair was up in a hasty ponytail, as casual as Mel had ever seen her. “You left, quite suddenly, and I wanted to see if you were… alright.” The tips of her ears turned slightly pink.

“Oh! Oh. Yep. Just needed to get a drink.” Mel covered up the idiotic grin that was threatening to spread across her face with a sip from her beer. Abi was worried about her. She cared. 

Abigael seemed to loosen up slightly once she knew Mel was fine, and she leaned against the counter. “Fantastic. Whiskey rocks?” she asked. Mel rolled her eyes and pulled a tumbler out from the cupboard. Abi’s gaze followed her.

“You finally decided to start caring about people?” said Mel, keeping her eyes trained on the bottle as she poured whiskey.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mel.” Mel looked up to see Abigael gazing off into the distance. “I _do_ care. It’s a problem of mine.”

Mel decided not to press further, and she dropped a carefully measured handful of ice cubes into the glass of whiskey, gave it a swirl, and handed it to Abigael. She accepted it gratefully, and their fingers brushed against each other as they parted, sending a jolt of electricity through Mel’s veins. She shuddered it away. Most likely just residual magic from the molecular manipulation.

Abigael took a hearty sip and smacked her lips. “I antagonize you often, Angry Spice, but you clearly have the ice-to-whiskey ratio on lock.” She was back to her old self- sex, booze, and rock and roll. Gone was the gentle, concerned human person that Mel had just seen. It disappointed her a little, but she knew Abigael well enough to know that it would come back eventually. She was a cocky asshole, but she was also deeply afraid of intimacy and it made Mel feel… she didn’t know, gratified?... To know that she was one of the only people, or perhaps _the_ only person, that Abi would show that side to.

“I was a bartender, remember?” Mel reminded her. “I’d make you a fancy drink, but you only ever drink whiskey.” She let teasing slide into her tone, grateful for a distraction- even if Abigael was supposed to be the one she was distracting herself from.

“Says you!” joked Abigael. “All that expertise and all I ever see you with is a beer.” She stole it from Mel’s hands playfully. She took a sip and gagged dramatically. “Not even a good beer!”

Mel let out an offended gasp and yanked it away from her. “Hey! I like it.”

Abigael laughed, whiskey sloshing over the side of her glass. “No accounting for taste.” Mel scrunched her nose at her, and Abigael stuck her tongue out like a little kid. Mel heard a yell and a crash from inside the living room and Abigael’s eyes flicked towards the doorway. “Our children are getting rowdy in there.”

The use of _our_ , which Mel wasn’t sure was deliberate or casual, made her pause. She had pondered the idea of her and Abi as a _we_ , but she didn’t think Abi would think that way. The fact that Abigael considered anything to be _theirs_ , as in something her and Mel shared, was mind-boggling. Especially when it came to Mel’s family, which she realized she had kind of begun to think of as a little bit Abigael’s too.

“The grownups are having a break,” ventured Mel. Abigael’s eyes brightened when she realized Mel was going along with the joke. “I’m sure they’ll be okay for a few more minutes, dear.”

Abigael broke character to squint at her ‘spouse’. “Really, _dear_? You couldn’t call me something less 1800s? I may be British, but I’m not from bloody _Sense and Sensibility_."

Mel felt fond irritation well in her chest. “I was trying to think fast,” she defended herself. Abigael made a show of rolling her eyes so far back in her head that Mel wondered whether she could see inside of her skull, but she was smiling. “So what movie are you thinking?”

“I can’t decide.” Abigael leaned backwards against the counter. “Too much pressure. Macy is looking for any excuse to throw me out.”

“Don’t worry,” Mel reassured her. “If she messes with you, she’ll have to put up with me."

Abigael smiled again, softer. “No one would dare do that.” Mel felt like she was supposed to do something, with Abigael looking at her like that, but she wasn’t sure what. She cleared her throat, and Abi jerked away, the moment broken. “Um.” Abigael tucked a strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear. “You know, I was thinking of picking _Spaceballs_.”

“ _Spaceballs_?” asked Mel incredulously. “Huh. That’s kind of perfect.”

“Right?” Abigael’s eyes began to glow in the way Mel had only seen when she talked about movies. Almost every time Mel walked into Abi’s room, she was watching a movie. She had laughed when she found out about Abi’s film-buff side, but it had humanized her in a way that nothing else had before. “It’s by no means a masterpiece of cinema, but it’s humorous and romantic, so Maggie will enjoy it, and Macy will fancy the sci-fi. You know how she loves pointing out scientific inconsistencies.”

“And Harry will like it as long as everyone else likes it,” added Mel. Abigael nodded, pressing her lips together. “Abi, you’re a genius.”

Abi tossed her ponytail. “If you’re going to call me a genius, be sure to put ‘evil’ in front of it.”

“I told Maggie to stop letting you on Tiktok,” groaned Mel. Abigael did a motion that might have been her trying to hit the whoa. “Absolutely- no. Absolutely not. Please don’t.”

“See? Evil genius.”

“Oh, stop it. You’re not evil, Abi,” sighed Mel. Abigael glanced up at her, eyes wide. “What is it?”

“It’s just…” Abigael seemed confused, strangely shaky. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

“That you weren’t evil?” Abigael nodded silently, and Mel’s chest gave a violent pang. “Yeah, well.” She looked down at her beer. “You did try to kill my sister. But you’ve made up for it several times over. Plus, you had your reasons. I don’t think I’ve ever really thought of you as evil. Apathetic? Sure. Deceitful? Sometimes. Cunning? Definitely. But evil? I don’t think you’re actually capable of that.”

“Why not?” Mel heard Abigael step closer and set down her glass on the counter, but she kept her eyes trained on her own drink.

“This might not make any sense because I’m a little bit tipsy, but… to be really evil, you have to care about no one but yourself,” Mel explained. “You have to do everything with no regard for consequences. And I can think of a ton of times where you’ve saved my ass, saved my sisters’ asses, because you care about me, about all of us. Definitely a ton more than the times you’ve hurt us. You look out for yourself, but you also protect the ones you care about. I don't know how anyone could call you evil for that.” 

Mel glanced up at Abigael, who looked like she had been slapped. Mel felt kind of the same way- she wasn’t sure why she was suddenly being so honest, maybe it was the alcohol talking, but she didn’t want to stop. She could feel tension snapping in the air like electricity. “Also... I’m sorry if I implied earlier that you didn’t care. I think you care a lot, and I know that’s difficult for you.”

All of a sudden, Abigael leaned forward and kissed Mel, and her mind went blank.

Mel didn’t know what was happening except for the fact that she had been waiting a long time for even a chance at this moment, so she closed her eyes and sank into the kiss, bringing her hands up to cup Abigael’s face. Abigael’s hands, which had tentatively rested on Mel’s waist, suddenly pushed her away.

Mel gasped and glanced behind her, but they weren’t in view of the living room; no one had seen what had just happened except for the two women involved. When she looked back, Abigael wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“I’m going to go tell Harry what we’re watching.” Without even pausing to collect her whiskey, Abigael turned and strode out the door. Mel stood for a moment, blinking. What had just happened? Abigael had kissed her, but she had pushed her away. Mel thought that maybe she was different, that maybe she was someone Abigael could trust, the only person that she _would_ trust, but obviously she had been wrong. Mel turned the thought over bitterly in her mind. Everything hurt, and everything felt like a betrayal.

When Mel rejoined her sisters in the living room, Macy was trying to talk Harry through renting the movie, Maggie was tossing popcorn in the air for Jordan to catch in his mouth, and Abigael was draped across her chair once again, rigid, staring solemnly and stubbornly away from Mel. 

Of course. Of _course_. Abi didn't _like_ her. It was a slip, a mistake in the heat of the moment, born of emotion and alcohol, and Abigael, who was allergic to feelings, was closing herself off because of it. Mel sighed internally, feeling like a complete idiot, and squeezed herself onto the couch between Maggie and Macy.

Macy was still immersed in her favorite pastime, bossing Harry around, but Maggie placed a hand on Mel’s shoulder in concern. She may not have been able to read thoughts anymore, but she was as perceptive as ever. “Everything alright?”

There were so many ways Mel could have answered that question, but none of them made sense, even to her. Instead, she gave Maggie a weak smile and turned to the TV, where Harry had finally gotten the movie to start playing. Whatever the hell was going on, she’d process it later.


	2. abigael

For once in her life, Abigael couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to a film. Normally, she’d be engrossed in Mel Brooks making jokes onscreen while covered in gold paint, but she had a different Mel on her mind.

Abigael didn’t want to look behind her, but she could feel her there. She could feel her gaze on the back of her neck. Whenever Mel Vera walked into a room, Abigael knew, and whenever Mel looked at her, it was like she couldn’t stand, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. It was frankly inconvenient. Abigael prided herself on being good at feeling what she wanted to feel. She could manipulate her emotions and the emotions of those around her almost like an empath.

But with Mel, she couldn’t control her emotions. Something about the witch made her go completely haywire, and there she’d been, standing in the kitchen with her terrible, disgusting beer and baggy sweatpants and teasing tone and soft eyes, telling her that she wasn’t evil, that she understood, and making her feel appreciated. It was abhorrent, really, so egregious that something in Abigael had snapped and she’d just kissed her.

Did she regret it? Perhaps.

Did it make her feel like her insides were outside and that everything was good in the world for a few seconds?

Well, yes.

Abigael hazarded a glance backward. In the flickering glow of the TV, Mel’s eyes were half-shut. Abigael had known it wasn’t Mel’s type of movie, so she wasn’t surprised that Mel was drifting off. Mel didn’t seem to notice Abigael looking.

Maybe she should just talk about it with her. Surely Mel would be reasonable. Surely that would be better than feeling this way forever with no release.

But what if she was scorned? What if, in telling Mel that the kiss wasn’t just a slip, that she actually may have meant it, she lost the only true family she’d ever had? She wasn’t sure she could take that.

Abigael looked around. Maggie was tucked into Jordan’s chest, grinning at the TV as Jordan downed popcorn by the handful; Macy was explaining to Harry why the physics of Lone Starr’s flying space Winnebago were all wrong; and Mel was wedged between them, sleepy and content.

They were do-gooders, the lot of them, foolish and brave and much too human, but they had each others’ backs and Abigael _loved_ them in a way that she thought she would never be capable of again.

Would she really risk giving that up for a girl?

She had already given up nearly everything for Mel; her apartment, overrun by demons, her old life in shambles, and her position as the Overlord, all gone.

If it went sideways, Abigael would leave, she’d pack her bags and do what she always did- survive. She’d lost everything already, what was one more blow in the grand scheme? She might as well burn it all down herself before someone did it for her.

Abigael eased herself out of the chair, stretched her legs, and walked around behind the couch. “Can we talk?” she whispered in Mel’s ear, and Mel jerked awake.

“Uh, sure.” Mel stood and followed her out the door, probably grateful for the chance to get away. Abigael felt slightly bad that she hadn’t considered what Mel would want to watch, but there weren’t many sci-fi rom-coms that also fell into the true crime or documentary category, which was what she knew Mel enjoyed.

They stood together in the entry, in front of the stairs. Abigael remembered the first time she’d come to their house, she’d admired the decor and wondered why Mel, the pretty girl who she barely knew, was so snappish to her, but she went along with it anyway. Mel’s face then looked like it did now, lips pressed together, looking up at Abigael from under drawn-together eyebrows. Her arms were crossed. Of course she was pissed off. Abigael felt unease wash over her. This was a terrible plan in every way. But Abigael’s terrible plans tended to work if she just applied some confidence.

Mel carefully kept her distance, pressing her back against the banister, and Abigael did the same on the opposite side of the stairs. “If you’re gonna talk, talk.” Mel said.

“As you know, I’m quite good with words until I actually need to be.” Abigael sighed. “I apologize for kissing you.” Mel dropped her eyes. “I never meant to upset you, or to jeopardize our relationship. If you want, we can go along like nothing ever happened.”

Mel’s face went from stormy to slightly confused. “Wait, what do you mean, _if_ I want?” 

Abigael wrung her hands together. “So I assume we’ll never talk about this again?”

“Abi, you’re not making any sense...” Mel took a step in. “This was a mistake, right?”

“Of course, of course,” Abigael said, hesitantly. “An error. The heat of the moment, you know. It will never happen again, I promise.”

Mel seemed to sense that she wasn’t telling the full truth. She had always been perceptive, being quite emotional herself. It was something Abi normally brushed off as weakness, but she admired it about Mel. “Are you sure?” Her eyes softened, just slightly. “You know you can be honest with me, right?”

“I understand.” Abigael turned her head away. Could she? She wanted to tell Mel the truth, but sometimes lying was the safer option.

But Abigael had never been a cautious person.

“...On my end, perhaps, it wasn’t a mistake,” she admitted.

In a small voice, smaller than Abigael had ever heard from her, Mel asked, “It wasn’t?”

They had almost subconsciously drifted from the banisters, to the point where they were almost meeting in the middle. Abigael felt her closeness like a forcefield. “No,” Abigael exhaled. “It wasn’t. I wanted to.”

“You-?” Mel grasped for words. She normally had so many. She was a fountain of thoughts and ideas and suddenly she had run dry. Had Abigael done that to her?

“I admit, I can be closed off. A product of my upbringing, I believe. I only pushed you away and ran off because I wasn’t sure how you were going to react and I didn’t want to stick around and find out if it was negative,” said Abigael. “That was a mistake. But the kiss, I’ll only regret it if you do.” The end of the sentence curved upward in her mouth, like a question that wasn’t a question.

Silence roared in Abigael’s ears. Seconds passed, too many, and Mel couldn’t meet Abigael’s gaze. Finally, she looked up, and Abigael braced herself for the fallout.

“I don’t regret it,” Mel said quietly.

Abigael opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Mel’s eyes scanned her face, pleadingly, searchingly, begging her to do something. As her heart beat faster and faster and her brain struggled to form a coherent thought other than _she doesn’t regret it_ , Mel took matters into her own hands, quite literally, by stepping in and placing her hands on Abigael’s face. They were nearly nose-to-nose, or as nose-to-nose as they could be with their height difference, and Mel’s breath ghosted over Abigael’s lips.

“Is this okay?” Mel asked, and all Abigael could do was nod before Mel gently but insistently pulled her in for a kiss. And this time, Abigael didn’t pull away.

“Wow,” said Abigael. Mel’s hands remained cupping her cheeks. Something about the way the low light from the moon and the TV in the other room casted dancing shadows across her face made Abi’s breath catch in her throat.

“So now you remember how to speak?” teased Mel.

“I feel like it might be preferable... if we didn’t speak at all.” Abigael said, smiling crookedly, leaning in, but the two were startled apart by a loud crash from the television, followed by the sounds of laser guns. Mel let out a laugh, and Abigael laughed along with her, feeling like a heavy weight had been removed from her chest. 

Perhaps this would end in hurt one day like she had suspected, and perhaps they were too different, or too doomed, and perhaps nothing was ever certain. But at least for tonight Abigael wasn’t going to lose her, and she could be at peace with that.

“I forgot it’s still movie night.” Mel held out her hand, and Abi took it. They’d held hands before, for spells or reasons otherwise, but this time it felt like a new beginning.

“Would you like to share my chair?” offered Abigael.

Mel gasped dramatically. “But you never let anyone in your chair.”

“I’d let you share my chair with me any day, Mel Vera,” Abigael said softly.

“That sounded suspiciously like an innuendo,” said Mel.

Abigael felt her face grow warm. “It wasn’t meant to be!”

“I find that hard to believe, but okay.” Mel pulled Abigael back into the living room, not seeming to care whether her sisters saw them together anymore, and plopped herself in Abigael’s chair. Macy and Maggie stared at Mel, wide-eyed, waiting for the inexorable explosion that occurred whenever someone sat in her chair, but Abigael simply smiled and sat down next to her, pushing her over playfully. Mel settled into her shoulder, sending a wave of stunning happiness through her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Abi saw Maggie and Macy exchange glances- one surprised, one knowing, and it’s easy to guess which was which. Abigael wrapped an arm around Mel, pulling her closer, because she knew Mel was inevitably going to fall asleep soon.

 _Finally_ , Abigael thought as she looked down at Mel, whose eyes were already beginning to close. One night of peace is all they needed, for now. And they’d figure out the rest as they went along.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: rulivya  
> instagram: evechloes  
> tumblr: transmazikeen


End file.
